


Give Him a Home

by LittleSixx



Series: Are You My Mother - Coda Fics [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Family Fluff, Gay Blaise Zabini, Gay Dean Thomas, M/M, POV Blaise Zabini
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25106296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSixx/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: Blaise and Dean decide to adopt a son.
Relationships: Dean Thomas/Blaise Zabini
Series: Are You My Mother - Coda Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1073934
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Give Him a Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a coda fic for my story, "Are You My Mother." It's just some cute slightly smutty bits about Blaise and Dean deciding to adopt their son. This happens sometime around 2013.

“Are you alright?”

Blaise paused his baking and looked up to see Dean staring at him, a concerned frown on his face. Some of the batter had flown across the island to land on the book Dean was reading. Blaise must have been stirring too quickly, his fingers still tight around the whisk’s handle.

“I am fine,” Blaise lied.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“We have been married well over five years, and you don’t think I can tell when you’re lying to me?”

“I never lie to you.”

“Right, like the surprise birthday party last year—”

“Surprises do not count.”

“The time you said we were going out to dinner and took me to a sex club.”

“They served food.”

“Or two Christmases ago when you _promised_ you would not buy me anything expensive.”

“It was a hundred Galleons,” Blaise insisted. “It was nothing.”

“It was a _coin pouch.”_

“It was _Chanel!”_

“In the six years we have been together you taught me one thing about luxury shopping.” Dean wiped the batter from his book and parroted, “We do not buy small leather goods because their value depletes over time and the quality isn’t worth it. And what did you do? You went and bought a small leather coin pouch.”

Blaise looked up at Dean, grabbed a spoon, and pointed it at him.

“You had so many Galleons in your pockets that you made noise when you walked! I even purchased the caviar leather instead of the lambskin!”

“You don’t buy the lambskin because it is thin and it creases.”

“Ah ha!” Blaise shouted, brandishing the wooden spoon. “I taught you two things.”

Dean’s eyes softened and he laughed. Blaise smiled back and tossed the spoon onto the island. He liked these moments when they teased each other because it reminded him of the early months of their relationship. Back when there was no pressure, nothing but the future ahead and waking up to each other in bed. 

Not that marriage was bad. On the contrary, being married to Dean was the happiest Blaise had ever been. Marriage was going to dinner with Dean’s friends. Marriage was helping Dean through every visit with his stepfather and the slow process of learning it was okay not to have all the answers. They were godparents to two wonderful boys and through it all Blaise was never lonely, not even for a moment. 

He spent the first ten years of his life alone but he would never feel that way again. Blaise had a family he was proud of, even if it was missing a piece. 

Dean asked, “What has you so upset?”

Blaise walked around the island and sat on the barstool next to Dean. He took Dean’s hands in his own and said,

“You know I love you more than anyone in the world.”

Dean nodded.

“These past few years, I have watched all my friends grow their families. Theo has the twins. Draco has Scorpius and Crixus. LJ has a newborn. Potter has three kids and even Bastien has a child on the way. It made me reevaluate what I want.”

Dean frowned.

“If the only reason you want a child is because your friends have kids, that’s not a good enough reason.”

“No!” Blaise insisted. He knew he would fuck this up somehow. “No, it is not that at all. It forces me to look at the family I want to have. And the family I know you want to have.”

“We talked about this before we got married and we spoke about it when you bought this house and we spoke about it three years ago when you saw tiny toddler robes at a boutique in Milan. I don’t need to have a child, Blaise. I have seven sisters, two nieces, two godsons, and you. And you are more than enough for me. I will never get tired of telling you that; you are my whole world.”

“I know,” Blaise replied with tears in his eyes. Because he did know; Dean proved as much every day. But it was always hard to believe someone so impossibly kind could fall for a man like him. “But I am ready to welcome someone else into our family. I could be the parent my mother never was to me. I can watch you be the father I know you want to be. We could have a child of our own to provide for and raise and dress up in those hideous Christmas jumpers you love.”

Dean frowned and his eyebrows almost knitted together.

“You’re serious about this.”

Blaise nodded.

“The woman who taught me to cook, the woman who looked after me all those weeks my mother left me alone ... I see her every time I am in Modena. I love her, she was the closest thing I had to family before the Malfoys. Her grandson has lived with her for four years but she is nearing eighty now.”

“I met her once.” Dean closed his book and pushed it to the side. “Are you concerned for her health?”

“She cannot care for a seven-year-old child and his parents are not present. They were reminiscent of my mother.”

“Neglectful,” Dean offered. “What will happen to him?”

“If you will agree to it,” Blaise took a deep breath, “I think we should adopt him.”

“You want to adopt a seven-year-old?”

“I believe we should give him the option to choose us.”

Dean frowned; he felt the doubt beneath those words. He took Blaise’s left hand and spun the wedding band between the pads of two fingers. 

“You don’t believe anyone would ever choose you.”

Blaise gave him a teary smile and said, “But you did.”

“And I would in any universe, you know that. At our wedding I told you it is a privilege to build a family with you, and I meant that with my entire heart. I am yours and always will be, but I do want to be a father. Neither of us had one, so I suppose that if we give a child two, that evens the universe out a bit.”

Blaise tried to bite back a laugh, but failed, ending up with something resembling a cough in the back of his throat. Dean’s eyes sparkled and goddamn, stumbling into that shop six years earlier was the luckiest Blaise would ever be. 

Dean asked, “What’s his name?”

“Elia.”

 _“Elia,”_ Dean repeated, trying the name because hearing it aloud made it real. He smiled wide enough to break his face when he said, “Elia Zabini. Our son, _Elia.”_

Blaise couldn’t hide his smile any longer. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the thought. _Our son._ He and Dean could be parents, _fathers_ together. 

“We can meet him tomorrow if you like.”

“Seems a bit sudden.”

“It is not, really,” Blaise admitted. “He understands his nonnina will not be alive much longer and I have spoken to her about this. Once she agreed, I spoke to Elia and asked if he wanted to be adopted. He said yes, and he would move to England with us. I wanted him to choose that, because I remember how horrible it was, moving here, being ripped away from my home, my language, my _food._ All for my mother to continue playing her games. I needed him to want to be here, and he said yes. So he wants to meet you.”

“Oh my God.” Dean’s eyes were wide and he tightened his hold on Blaise’s hand. “Oh my God, Blaise, you’ve already got this in your head. You really want this.”

“He deserves a good home, and we are good men with a good house and a supportive family all around us.”

“Yes,” Dean replied, wiping happy tears from his eyes. “Yes, we are so good and I want to be a dad. If he wants this, I mean. It’s not for certain, but ... Just the thought ...” Dean brought Blaise’s hand up to his lips and didn’t look away as he kissed the back of Blaise’s hand. He lingered, and Blaise couldn’t take it. 

He had always been weak for that look.

Blaise stepped off the chair and pulled Dean into a kiss by the collar of his t-shirt. It was hot and sloppy as Blaise stuffed one hand down the front of Dean’s trousers. Dean gasped and arched up into the touch. 

“You know,” Dean said between kisses, “if we adopt a son ...” He brought his hands up to cup Blaise’s face. “We won’t be able to do this anymore.”

“Not in the kitchen,” Blaise replied. “The bedroom will get more use.”

“Uungh,” came Dean’s response as Blaise pulled him off the barstool.

After six years together, there wasn’t much speaking during sex. Dean pushed Blaise back against a wall and Blaise smiled, grinding his pelvis against Dean’s. He unbuttoned his shirt while Dean pulled his t-shirt over his head without much fuss. He leaned back and watched as Blaise tried and failed to get the button-down off as quickly as possible. Blaise’s fingers shook because it was one of _those_ nights. 

Before Dean, Blaise hated to be the bottom. It never felt quite as good and required a lot of trust, something he almost never gave away. Conversely, Dean loved it. He enjoyed not doing the work and being the object of desire. It worked well for them, but there were days when Dean wanted to be in control. Those days, rare as they were, tended to be Blaise’s favourites because Dean was not afraid to take what he wanted. He had the tendency to put himself last in every area of life, and in this one thing he could use Blaise for what he needed while Blaise was aching for it. 

He finally shrugged off his shirt, pulled off the undershirt, and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Wondering, _Are we really doing this? Will we be fathers to a son?_

Blaise unfastened his trousers and pushed them down to his ankles before stepping out and kicking them aside. Dean shimmied out of his jeans and pants then tossed them in the general direction of the hallway. He fell to his knees and Blaise winced; hardwood was not forgiving. Dean pulled Blaise’s pants off and licked his half-hard dick from base to tip. Blaise slammed his head back into the wall and groaned.

“So good. _So good.”_

Blaise ran his fingers through Dean’s curls and guided him to the appropriate speed until Dean popped off with a loud squelch. He stood up and spun Blaise around to face the wall. Dean pressed his chest flat against Blaise’s back, and he felt Dean’s dick in the cleft of his bum. Dean kissed Blaise’s shoulder and began to work him open.

One finger.

Dean placed his left hand on Blaise’s left pectoral and let his fingers rest against Blaise’s racing heart.

Two fingers.

Blaise pressed his forehead firmly against the wall and bucked back onto Dean’s hand, impatient.

Three fingers.

A needy whine escaped Blaise’s lips.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, “you do that to me, too.”

He entered Blaise slowly, to the point Blaise was mad with desire by the time Dean slid completely inside. Blaise sobbed, turning to press his cheek against the wall. 

_“Sososogood.”_

Dean wrapped his arms beneath Blaise’s as his hands began a slow journey down Blaise’s body. Dean paused to tease his nipples, his fingernails scraped along the sides of Blaise’s ribcage, and he eventually settled on Blaise’s hips.

White noise.

Dean pulled out and slowly slid back in, keeping Blaise pressed firmly against the wall. Again, he slid out slowly but slammed back in with surprising force. His hands kept Blaise in place so all he could do was moan and tug at his cock.

“Not long, now.”

Dean bit down on Blaise’s neck and sucked until he knew it would leave a mark. Some needy part of Blaise preened as he reached backward to tug Dean up into a wet, messy snog. Dean snapped his hips again and again, brushing against the sensitive spot that would soon make Blaise see stars.

Dean pushed Blaise’s hand away and began working Blaise’s dick in time with his thrusts. Blaise pushed back, placed both palms against the wall, and leaned forward. The angle allowed Dean to go deeper and they both moaned when he reached an as-yet-untouched part of Blaise. He increased the pressure on Blaise’s dick and snapped his hips hard enough to cause Blaise to slip.

He laughed as Dean caught him by the waist and hauled him back up to the wall. Dean smacked Blaise’s arse and teased,

“Pretty boys can get punished, too.”

“Do not make me promises you won’t keep,” Blaise shot back. 

He could hear Dean’s smile as he replied, “Next time.”

Not long after, Blaise felt the familiar pull begin just below his stomach. He closed his eyes as his entire body froze in place and his orgasm hit full-force. He shouted Dean’s name into the wall, begging for him to continue, never wanting that feeling to end. Of course, just as quickly as he came, Blaise melted back into reality with only Dean’s arms to keep him upright.

Dean came soon after and muffled his words in Blaise’s shoulder. He pulled out and they stood there together for awhile, exhausted and sticky. Breathing heavily, Blaise leaned back into Dean’s chest and closed his eyes.

“Blaise?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You did most of the work this time.”

Dean laughed and said, “I meant about the adoption. Expanding our family.”

Blaise simply replied, “It feels right.”

**.oOo.**

Elia was a tall child, long and gangly like Dean was once. He always looked like he was somewhere else, trying to find a better life for himself, one where he was loved. While he had the haunted look that never quite left Blaise’s eyes, he had Dean’s curly hair and even wore a t-shirt to their first meeting. Elia walked up to the pair of them, holding onto his _nonnina’s_ hand, and the three of them immediately hit it off. He was familiar with Blaise and loved Dean from the moment they met.

They spent the first month in Italy, living together to ensure it was what Elia wanted. Dean quickly fell into the role of “fun parent.” (Dad.) He taught Elia Quidditch and football, and always read him stories before bed. Blaise cooked, but he found his niche as Elia’s emotional support. (Papà.) He, too, had been whisked off to England at a young age. Elia had all sorts of questions and Blaise answered them honestly. The part of parenting Blaise was most worried about ended up being the easiest.

The three of them returned to Queens Park in May. Blaise and Dean adopted Elia three months later on August 17th, his eighth birthday.

Everyone came over for the surprise. Draco and Hermione brought Crixus and Scorpius; who would become one of Elia’s closest friends. The Potters brought Al, Jay, and Lily Luna. Theo brought the twins, who were preparing for their first trip to Hogwarts in a few days. (That made everyone feel incredibly old.) Romilda, Bastien, and LJ were also in attendance alongside most of Dean’s family. 

Elia stared at the papers for a long while, the giant Ministry of Magic seal emblazoned in the lower-right corner with Kingsley Shacklebolt’s signature to confirm Blaise and Dean were officially parents. Elia couldn’t read most of it, but he understood enough. He began to cry and Blaise scooped him up into a hug. He was the more physical parent which surprised everyone, Dean included.

Elia could only say, “I’m so happy!” as everyone looked on. The tears continued as he said, “Thank you for giving me a home.”

Blaise held him tighter and replied, “You always have a home with us.”

Later that evening, Elia was tucked into bed between his parents; Dean read a story as Blaise played with his hair. Just before he fell asleep, he looked at them both and said the words they had been praying to hear for months.

“I love you so much.”


End file.
